It's been a while since I wrote one of my reflective blog entries, and I think that's because I haven't been going for the sort of walks that I used to do. This was partly due to the abdominal pain that any walking seemed to cause, and partly because Susie the dog is getting so ancient now that she's happy with a walk down the lane and back again these days. So my old haunts have been off-limits recently. But that changed on Sunday. It was the most beautiful day of this Indian summer. Hubby was involved with chores, eg taking to the tip all the stuff that I've been obsessively decluttering, and I decided to drive up to the base of Corndon Hill and see how far Susie and I could walk along the bridle path, which is relatively flat. Well, in the end we were out for about 1 1/2 hours. I admit that some of that time was spent sitting on a rock gazing at the view, but most of it was walking. And my tummy didn't hurt a bit! Being on regular painkillers has made a huge difference to me. No more back pain, no more tummy pain. It's wonderful!
There was no wind that morning, which is highly unusual up here. There were a few clouds in the sky but mostly the sun shone. Skylarks flew up at our approach and let forth their liquid song into the still air, buzzards wheeled and screamed high above the hillside, and everywhere was permeated with the sweet coconutty smell of gorse. Oh, it was magic! I found a comfy rock and just sat and stared at the patchwork of landscape laid out below me. It was quite hazy so you couldn't see the far-distant landmarks - the Berwyn mountains, Cadair Idris, and even Snowdon - a good 70 miles away - that are visible on a very clear day. But that didn't matter, there was so much to see near at hand. I felt a real joy in being alive. We all feel that from time to time, if we are lucky, but there is a special poignancy in that feeling when you know that life is not going to go on for very much longer. People tell me that I must seize the moment, but for me that doesn't necessarily mean doing exotic and ambitious things any more. When sitting on a rock in the sunshine can give you so much pleasure, why seek it out elsewhere?
So I came down from my mountain feeling very much refreshed and ready to face the next stage of treatment, which is going to be chemo, though I don't yet know what sort or when it will start. I have an appointment to discuss all that on 13th Oct. In the meantime, the issue that's really bothering me is my neck. I have an enlarged lymph node (approx. 4.2 x 3.2 cm) at the base of my neck. In itself it doesn't hurt, but I am experiencing increasing pain in that general area, mostly in the mornings. I take Zomorph at 7 am and 7 pm, but I find that I'm now waking up any time after about 3.00 am with the pain shooting down into my chest , down my back and down my left arm, so am obliged to take some Oramorph as well. The pain goes on until about midday. But it doesn't seem to start in the lump - it starts higher up and further back. So is it referred pain from the lump, or is it something else entirely? Hubby persuaded me to go and see the GP and ask if he could shed any light on this, and I did so this afternoon.
My GP explained that although the lump is not exactly causing the pain, it may be making me hold my head and neck differently, thus leading to nerve pain in the neck. I'm not conscious of doing this, but perhaps that is why the pain is so much worse in the morning after sleeping, when I may have been unconsciously sleeping at a funny angle or something. I only use one very soft feather pillow, so it's not as if I'm propping my head up too high. Anyway, the GP has prescribed a very small dose of amitriptyline to be taken at night. Although I had heard of this drug, I'm a complete novice in the field of pain relief, and needed an explanation as to what it is and what it does. He told me that it is an old-fashioned tricyclic antidepressant, barely used now for that purpose, but often prescribed 'off-licence' for nerve pain, as it seems to work very well for that. Apparently I can take it alongside my two forms of morphine. I confessed to having a glass of wine every night with what I laughingly describe as 'dinner' (often just a square of cheese and half an apple or something, my appetite having gone out the window), and he said I could continue unless I found that I felt hungover in the mornings. I'd already previously cleared this thorny question with my oncologist, when he prescribed morphine. He, too, said it was OK if I didn't feel it affected me. And fortunately it doesn't!
